


Talk is Cheap (and Cullen is a Cheap Date)

by Dragonflies_and_Katydids



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sort of? - Freeform, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 18:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6532138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonflies_and_Katydids/pseuds/Dragonflies_and_Katydids
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reading over other people's shoulders is dangerous. But like a lot of dangerous things, sometimes the reward is worth it.</p><p>Or: In which Cullen suggests Dorian could be doing something better with his mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk is Cheap (and Cullen is a Cheap Date)

It's not that Cullen _meant_ to look. He doesn't make a habit of sticking his nose into other people's business, which would include reading over a stranger's shoulder, and his gaze fell on the laptop screen completely by accident. The coffee shop is crowded at eight on a Friday night, all available seats occupied by at least one ass, and the armchairs in this corner of the café have been crammed together to make room at a table for a crowd of kids from the nearby college.

Which means that when Cullen looks up from his book to debate whether he's prepared to risk his seat for another cup of coffee, he can't help but glance past the screen that's practically at his elbow. The guy beside him--Dorian--is a regular, someone Cullen's seen often enough that they nod to each other in passing. They know each other's names from hearing them called out by the baristas, but they've never said more than a polite thank-you/you're welcome when one of them holds the door for the other.

Not that Cullen wouldn't like to get to know him more. He's caught enough bits of conversation to know Dorian is funny, and charming, and also completely out of his league. Their exchanges have always been polite, but distant.

A little distance would be good right now, because it would mean Dorian's laptop was farther away, far enough Cullen couldn't read the words on his screen. He'd barely noticed them the first time, when his eyes tracked up to the counter, but on the return path, one word jumped off the screen at him: "fuck."

And now that his attention is caught, he can't look away, his eyes seeking out the word to read the sentence around it, then the paragraph around that. Finally he skips back to the top of the page, skimming down it once, twice, three times. He wants to look away, but he can't.

Porn. Dorian is writing porn. With occasional pauses to sip his coffee as if he isn't sitting in a public place describing a blowjob in loving and explicit detail. Reading it, Cullen can almost feel his jaw aching as he stretches his mouth wide around an improbably large dick.

Dorian shifts his weight, resettling the laptop at an angle that tilts it slightly away from Cullen, enough that Cullen can tear his eyes away and look back at his book. Not that he really sees it, not through the vivid picture Dorian's words have painted. He's flushed, and his dick is getting hard, and he'll be embarrassed when he's done being turned on.

The hand on his arm makes him jump and squeak in a very undignified way.

Dorian snatches his hand back. "I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, no, it's fine," Cullen says, barely able to look at him. The pornographic loop in his brain hitches for a second, then switches to something a little too close to home. What would Dorian's cock taste like, he wonders, before he can shove the idea away. "I just wasn't paying attention."

"Well," Dorian says with a winning smile, "do you mind paying attention to my things for a moment? Another cup of coffee is in order, but I'd like to have someplace to sit when I get back."

"Sure, no problem," Cullen says. The juvenile part of his brain wants him to suggest his own lap as an alternate place for Dorian to sit, and what the fuck is wrong with him? Dorian is allowed to work on whatever he wants to work on without Cullen perving on him. "I'll be here a while."

"Wonderful," Dorian says. "I hope to be back significantly before 'a while.'"

He really does have an amazing smile, and Cullen has to smack his brain once again, shoving away images of all the things Dorian could do with his mouth besides smile. "I'll be here," he says again. It's not very witty, but it beats hell out of all the other things going through his head.

Dorian heads off to the counter, and Cullen looks away, very deliberately not checking out his ass. Though it's probably-

No. It's none of his business what Dorian's ass is or isn't, and he really needs to get his mind out of the gutter.

Staring at Dorian's laptop, it turns out, is not very helpful. It's closed now, the screen hidden, but Cullen doesn't need to see the words to remember them. His face is getting warmer, and he has to shift to hide his increasingly hard dick. He'd intended to stay here at least another hour, enjoying the sight of a place that isn't his apartment, but going home is beginning to seem like a very good idea.

"And here we are," Dorian says, startling Cullen again. When Cullen's head snaps around to him, eyes wide, Dorian blinks at him. "Are you sure you shouldn't switch to decaf?"

"Sorry," Cullen mutters. "I'm fine. I just got lost in thought." Feeling stupid, he tries a joke. "Unfamiliar territory, right?"

"Hardly," Dorian says with a snort. "I've seen what you read." And while Cullen is still trying to absorb the fact that Dorian has paid enough attention to him to notice--and remember--what he reads, Dorian holds out a cup of coffee to him.

"What's this?" Cullen asks, as if it isn't obvious.

"A token of my thanks for guarding my chair." Dorian smiles as he hands off the cup. "I think I remembered your order correctly."

Another small shock, that Dorian would bother to pay attention to a stranger's drink order, and Cullen takes a sip without thinking, only to jerk back when the coffee scalds his mouth.

"It might be a little hot," Dorian says with a straight face. "Don't burn yourself."

"Too late," Cullen says, touching his tongue gingerly to the roof of his mouth. What an impression he's making tonight. "I swear I'm not usually this stupid."

"I know," Dorian says with a one-shoulder shrug. "We all have our bad days."

His knees brush by Cullen's on his way back to his chair, and Cullen can't help but strain toward every noise he makes as he settles and opens his laptop. "Thank you again," Dorian says absently. By his tone, he's already back into his work, so Cullen just hums acknowledgement.

After that, reading his book is a lost cause. Oh, Cullen tries, but it's a weak effort at best. His eyes aren't even moving across the page, all his attention on the muted tapping of Dorian's fingers on the keyboard. Now that he knows exactly what words are flowing onto the page with each click, it's impossible not to listen.

His eyes move gradually, as if it's somehow less of an invasion of Dorian's privacy if Cullen can pretend it happened accidentally. From the page of his book, to his leg, to the arm of his chair, to Dorian's shoulder, his gaze moves slowly toward the screen, until it's filling his vision and all he can see are the words flowing onto the page.

Because Dorian's screen is once more turned at exactly the right angle for Cullen to see it. He doesn't have to crane his neck or strain his eyes, though he finds himself unconsciously leaning closer anyway. The part he read earlier is gone, and the story has progressed from blowjobs to rimming, the character on the receiving end groaning and begging to be fucked while his partner teases him--and Cullen--for several paragraphs.

As fast as Dorian types, Cullen reads faster, and he reaches the end of the page too soon. Rather than hang desperately on each word as Dorian picks them out, Cullen skips back to the top of the page to re-read. On the second pass, he sees the occasional typo or poorly chosen word he would expect in a first draft, but the scene is still incredibly hot. It's also hot on the third read, and the fourth.

Cullen's dick is now achingly hard, his fingers curled so tightly his nails are digging into his palms. His face is probably scarlet, if the sweat forming at the base of his neck is anything to go by, but he's given up trying to look away. He's invested in the scene, nearly as eager for the end as the characters.

Then Dorian stops, his fingers resting on the keyboard as if he's thinking about the next sentence. Since they're nearly to the end, Cullen can objectively understand the need to get it right, to find the perfect words to make it satisfying. Most of him isn't feeling very objective right now, though, and the urge to grab Dorian's shoulder and beg him to just fucking finish is strong.

Dorian drums his fingers against the space bar once, lightly, then hits the return key several times, leaving a blank space between the end of the previous paragraph and the blinking cursor. When Dorian starts typing again, Cullen's stomach flips unpleasantly.

 _You haven't turned a page in thirty minutes,_ Dorian types. There's a pause, during which he doesn't so much as glance in Cullen's direction, then he adds, _Also, you're breathing in my ear rather loudly._

Cullen jerks backward, spilling coffee on his lap and narrowly avoiding doing the same to his book. The coffee is no longer hot, so at least he doesn't burn himself, but it gets all over his jeans and his shirt. "Shit," he says, panic making him louder than he meant.

Several people turn, and he winces, ducking his head down to avoid eye contact with anyone. Especially Dorian. He's never going to be able to look Dorian in the eye ever again, which means finding another coffee shop, which sucks, because this one is really convenient-

"Here," Dorian says, and Cullen almost spills the rest of his coffee. "Let me help."

He's standing over Cullen with a fistful of napkins, and when Cullen just gapes at him, Dorian shrugs and kneels, nudging Cullen's legs apart with hip and elbow so he can blot at the coffee on Cullen's jeans. "Quite a mess," Dorian murmurs, and there's a sly smile at the corners of his eyes and mouth.

If Cullen has any doubts about whether that was deliberately suggestive, they're put to rest when Dorian's hand lingers on his thigh, just shy of his dick. "I'm fine," Cullen says, his voice not as steady as he'd like. "I'll clean it up."

"As I helped make the mess, it seems only fair that I help clean it up," Dorian says. His hand on Cullen's thigh spreads wide, thumb sliding down to stroke over the inseam of his jeans. "Unless you'd prefer to clean it up yourself, of course."

Cullen is transfixed, unable to look away from Dorian's hand on his leg, but he does manage a head shake. "N-no, if you want to help, ummm, that'd be, ummm..." He forgets the rest of what he was going to say as Dorian's hands settle on his hips.

On his knees with his hands braced like that, Dorian looks like he's about to bend over and suck Cullen's dick, and Cullen's hips flex involuntarily. Dorian's body and the arms of the chair block off the view from anyone not standing directly over them, and everyone else in the coffee shop has returned to their conversations after Cullen's outburst.

 _Someone would notice,_ Cullen reminds his dick. Because it's true. No one's looking at them right now, but if Dorian started anything like that, someone would definitely notice.

Dorian's eyes are dark when he looks up, and Cullen wants to kiss him, wants to lift him up into his lap, wants to reverse their positions so he's the one on his knees, Dorian's cock in his mouth.

"If I might make a suggestion," Dorian says, his voice lower than it needs to be. "I have a rather comfortable apartment less than two blocks away. We could adjourn there, where I can write and you can read over my shoulder much more comfortably." His fingers tighten on Cullen's hips. "Or we could skip straight to the live demonstration."

There's a buzzing in Cullen's ears, and his voice is scratchy when he says, "I vote for the live demonstration."

"Then that makes two of us," Dorian says. He leans forward like he might steal a kiss but doesn't actually do it, instead using Cullen's knees to push himself to his feet. "And as an added bonus, I have a washing machine."

Cullen is so distracted by everything else that it takes him a second to realize Dorian means the coffee on his shirt and jeans. "I'm not worried about it," he says.

"Yes, well, you'll be naked anyway, so it isn't as if it will inconvenience you," Dorian says with a smirk that turns into a real smile when Cullen laughs. "Now then. I believe there was talk of leaving? Unless you've suddenly developed a need for more coffee."

"I think I'm good," Cullen says.

"I certainly hope so," Dorian says as he bends over to put his laptop into its bag.

This time, Cullen lets himself look at Dorian's ass, admiring the curves as his jeans stretch taut around it. He doesn't bother trying to hide when Dorian turns and catches him at it, just grins at Dorian even as his cheeks flush.

"Shall we?" Dorian says with a grand gesture toward the door.

Cullen gets to his feet, a little uncomfortable in his damp jeans, and a lot uncomfortable with his dick so hard. There's nothing he can do about either at the moment, so he just picks up Dorian's laptop bag and imitates Dorian's gesture. "After you."

"Aren't you the gentleman," Dorian says. "I can carry it, you know."

"I know," Cullen says, smiling. "Since I'm pretty sure you carry it everywhere."

Dorian is still eyeing him a little warily, as if Cullen's behavior is far enough outside normal social interactions to be suspect, but in the end he just leads the way outside.

The weather has turned nice, the late spring heat cut with a breeze now that the sun has set. A perfect night for walking, especially when he reaches for Dorian's hand and Dorian moves closer, lacing their fingers together.

The walk is as short as promised, for which Cullen's grateful. Wet denim chafes his thighs unpleasantly, made more uncomfortable by an erection that's undeterred by the walk or the chafing or the two flights of stairs they have to climb to get to Dorian's apartment.

Dorian's first stop once they're inside is the closet holding a stackable washer/dryer. Sexy it isn't, but getting out of his clothes is a little more important right now. As Dorian spins dials, Cullen toes off his shoes and peels off his t-shirt, freeing his head in time to catch Dorian staring at his chest, lips parted.

"Did you want something?" Cullen teases, starting to find his mental balance again. This isn't his first time, even if he never expected someone like Dorian to look at him twice, and he does know how to do more than follow blindly along.

Dorian smiles, slow and wicked. "Oh, yes," he breathes, reaching out to touch the hollow of Cullen's throat. "Very much."

His touch is light, teasing: his fingers toy with the curls of hair on Cullen's chest, and the backs of his knuckles brush over Cullen's nipples before drifting lower, over Cullen's stomach and down to the button on his jeans. Dorian stops there, fingers poised to undo it, and looks up to meet Cullen's eyes. "May I?" he asks slyly.

"If I can kiss you," Cullen says. He's not used to getting this far without so much as a peck, and he wants it, wants Dorian's mouth against his.

It occurs to him to wonder if Dorian sees this as a pickup, an impersonal transaction where intimacy doesn't belong, except Dorian's fingers are curling in the waistband of his jeans to pull him closer. "As much as you want," Dorian says, lips close enough to brush Cullen's. "Wherever you want."

They're almost the same height, and Cullen only has to tilt his head to fit their mouths together, to have Dorian's lips parting under his tongue and Dorian's tongue sliding against his. One of Dorian's hands is in his hair now, encouraging him almost as much as the small noises Dorian is making, and Cullen presses in harder, wanting to feel those sounds as much as hear them.

Dorian's hand, the one not in Cullen's hair, is tugging on the button of his jeans, fighting with the wet denim and the closeness of their bodies and making absolutely no progress. After a while, he growls in frustration, and as hot as that is, Cullen breaks the kiss, putting a little distance between them so he can work on wriggling out of his jeans.

Cullen isn't all that good at a striptease under normal circumstances, and wet denim only makes it more difficult. By the look on Dorian's face, though, he doesn't mind at all, his eyes moving over every bit of skin as it's revealed, and as soon as Cullen's jeans are in the washing machine, Dorian is on his knees, mouth touching the curve of Cullen's hip and the crease at the top of his thigh.

He kisses the chafed spot on the inside of Cullen's thigh and makes a small, sympathetic noise. "That looks painful," he says. Then he looks up, mouth still against Cullen's skin, and says with a smirk, "Shall I kiss it and make it better?"

Cullen starts to laugh, only to choke on it when Dorian licks the red mark with a broad sweep of his tongue. "Hmmm," Dorian says. "I admit, the coffee flavor is new." He licks the same place, hums thoughtfully. "Not unpleasant, though."

"I'll keep it in mind," Cullen says. Before he can add anything, Dorian blows across the spot he just licked, and the chill makes Cullen shiver.

Leaning down, he cups Dorian's chin to tilt his head back. "As hot as that is," Cullen says, "I was kind of hoping for a bed, and you naked."

Dorian laughs, just a quick huff of breath against Cullen's skin. "I think I may be able to accommodate that request." He lets Cullen help him to his feet, but instead of moving away, he leans in for another kiss, mouth hot as he sucks on Cullen's lower lip, biting gently.

"Bedroom?" Cullen asks breathlessly, when Dorian lets him go. "Unless you actually want to do this in the hallway."

"It has a certain appeal," Dorian says, eyes crinkling at the corners. "But if you insist, the bedroom is that way."

The apartment isn't large, and the bedroom isn't difficult to find, and it turns out that Dorian isn't all that good at a striptease, either. Or maybe he would be if he wasn't rushing, because he seems determined to get naked as fast as humanly possible. Watching him, watching all that smooth brown skin as the clothes fall away, Cullen is definitely in favor of any plan that involves Dorian naked sooner rather than later.

Then he's pushing Cullen backward onto the bed, following him down, his movements rougher, almost frantic. His kiss has teeth now, and his hands in Cullen's hair are just the right side of painful. Cullen groans, squeezing Dorian's ass as their legs tangle together, giving both of them something to grind against.

Dorian's lips move to his throat, and Cullen tips his chin back to give him better access, closing his eyes so he can concentrate on the line of wet kisses and sharp bites Dorian is leaving on his neck and shoulders. Their hips are moving in sync, bodies arching into each other, Dorian's moans vibrating against Cullen's skin.

His teeth are surprisingly gentle on the curve of Cullen's ear, scraping more than biting, and his breath is warm as he whispers, "I want to fuck you."

Cullen jerks, turning Dorian's grip on his hair momentarily painful, but even that pain feels amazing right now. While he's still trying to find some corner of his brain that remembers how to make words, Dorian nuzzles the hollow behind his ear, lips dragging along his hairline, and continues in that same low voice, "I want to fuck you until I come, and then I want to suck your cock for as long as you'll let me."

"Fuck," Cullen breathes, which isn't terribly original, but it's the only word he remembers right now.

"That's the idea," Dorian says. He's laughing and breathless, and all Cullen's words come back to him in a rush.

"I want you to tell me about it," Cullen says. Dorian goes still, and Cullen doesn't know what that means, but he can't stop now. "Tell me everything you want. All of it, everything, every detail."

Dorian swallows, hard enough Cullen can hear it, and a shudder runs down his body. His voice is rough when he says, "That may be difficult, if I'm sucking your cock."

"Then don't," Cullen says, and what the hell is wrong with him, turning down a blowjob?

"You know," Dorian says, sounding almost conversational, except that his hips are rocking against Cullen's thigh again, "usually when people suggest I could be doing something better with my mouth, they mean it the other way around."

Cullen laughs, running a hand up Dorian's spine to cup the back of his head. "You've got the sexiest voice," he says. "And I already know you've got good ideas."

"Mmmmm," Dorian purrs, pressing his nose into Cullen's hair. "Did it turn you on, reading over my shoulder like that?"

"You know it did," Cullen says, wrapping one of his legs around Dorian's to grind against him harder. "You should be more careful where you sit."

"Oh, I'm very careful," Dorian says. "Always."

Cullen's eyes pop open, and he pulls away enough to see Dorian's face. "You did that on _purpose_?" He can't decide if that's really hot, or kind of creepy.

"Well," Dorian says with a sheepish grin, "I wanted to see if it would work. You didn't have to read it, after all." The last part is a little defensive, and he can feel Dorian bracing to pull away.

Cullen tightens his grip but doesn't let Dorian hide his face. "You couldn't just, I dunno, flirt like anybody else?"

"Oh, but I hate to do things like everybody else." Dorian's eyes cut to the left, and he says to Cullen's ear, "Besides, I didn't do it on purpose to start with. I thought maybe you were looking, and I tried to turn so you couldn't. I didn't actually set out to write porn while you watched." He shrugs. "Then you were so flustered when I went to get coffee, I decided you probably had been, and you didn't seem offended, so I...gave you the opportunity, when I sat back down."

It might be the most ridiculous thing Cullen's ever heard, but since the end result is Dorian naked on top of him, Cullen decides he's not going to complain. "It was really hot," he admits. "Watching you write that."

"It was really hot knowing you were watching." Dorian is smiling again, relaxing into him. "I'd know I was getting it right when you'd stop breathing. Very inspiring."

"Inspiring?"

"Very," Dorian says. He tries to press his face down into the crook of Cullen's neck again, and Cullen lets him, no longer making any effort to keep them apart. "Very inspiring," Dorian murmurs, lips against his ear. "Do you know how hard I was, knowing you were watching?"

Cullen kisses his shoulder, the only part of Dorian he can reach with his mouth at the moment. "No, but you could tell me."

"Oh, you are something else," Dorian says. Cullen thinks--hopes--it's a compliment. "You leaned forward, you know. I don't think you meant to, but you were so close I could hear it every time you swallowed. And listening to you breathe? I wanted to make you breathless, because every time you stopped, you'd make this...almost a moan, when you started again. So quiet, but you were right there. I thought about turning around, just kissing you."

"Instead you made me spill my coffee." He kisses Dorian's shoulder again, makes sure he can feel the smile. "That's one way to get me out of my clothes, I guess."

"And it worked very well, didn't it?" Despite the casual words, Dorian's sounding a little breathless himself now. "I got exactly what I wanted."

Cullen's not used to being exactly what anyone wanted, and he recognizes a line when he hears one, no matter how charmingly delivered. "You need to raise your standards," he teases, to show he's not taking it seriously.

Dorian bites him, not very gently. "I'm going to ignore that, just so we're clear." He kisses the place where Cullen's skin aches from the bite. "I got _exactly_ what I wanted. Now let me give you what you want."

"This," Cullen says. "I want this. I want you to fuck me while you tell me everything you want." He hesitates, then takes a chance. "Tell me what you'll do to me next time."

Dorian's laugh is warm and quiet in his ear, rumbling against his neck, and it makes Cullen's hips move, thrusting his dick up against Dorian's thigh. "So many possibilities," Dorian murmurs. "Let me think. And while I'm thinking..."

He slithers out of Cullen's grasp, kissing his way down the center of Cullen's chest, and even knowing exactly where he's going, it's still a shock when his mouth closes around Cullen's dick. He takes half of it on the first stroke, and all of it on the second, and Cullen grabs for the sheets to stop himself from grabbing Dorian's hair.

"Fuck," he gasps. "Fuck, you feel so good."

Dorian lifts his head long enough to grin at him. "I know."

Before Cullen can think of a retort, Dorian's lips wrap around the head of his cock, tongue teasing at the slit as his fist strokes up and down the shaft. It's easy to get lost in the wet heat of his mouth and the tight grip of his fingers, and even easier when his lips are once more sliding to the base of Cullen's dick, his spit-slick fingers pressing gently against Cullen's ass.

He's slow and careful, which the logical side of Cullen appreciates even as his cock screams _nownownow_. That doesn't stop Cullen from shifting restlessly, unable to hold still with his cock buried in Dorian's throat. Not thrusting is about the limit of his control, and his double fistful of sheet is the only thing keeping his hands off Dorian's head.

Which lasts up until Dorian's fingers hit exactly the right spot, then Cullen grabs for him. At least he has enough control left to go for Dorian's shoulder instead of his hair, but his voice cracks as he says, "I think there's something better you could be doing with your mouth."

Dorian laughs and lets Cullen push his head away. "That's true, I did promise you a story." His voice is rough from taking Cullen's dick so deep, and his fingers continue to thrust, moving in and out, stroking over that spot each time. "And I do want to fuck you."

"Then do it," Cullen grinds out between clenched teeth. "For fuck's sake, _please_."

"How can I say no, when you ask so sweetly?" Dorian's fingers aren't thrusting anymore, but they're still deep inside him, rubbing gently. His thumb presses against the skin behind Cullen's balls, and he bites his lower lip when Cullen rocks back onto his hand. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," he says.

Another word people don't usually apply to Cullen, but he doesn't have the brain space left to think about it. Instead of trying, he just says Dorian's name, begging or demanding, he isn't sure.

With a show of reluctance, Dorian withdraws his fingers. "Lie on your side," he says, voice not entirely steady. "Facing that way."

Cullen does as he's told, rolling away as Dorian crawls over to the nightstand and paws through the drawers. He can't see what's happening, can only hear a condom wrapper opening and the wet sound of lube being stroked over Dorian's cock, can only feel the way the mattress shifts as Dorian comes back.

"Lift your head," Dorian murmurs, and when Cullen does, Dorian's arm slides underneath. His body curls against Cullen almost in slow motion: his chest against Cullen's back, then his stomach, then his knees fitting into the space behind Cullen's legs, feet tangling together, and finally, _finally_ , his cock, sliding into Cullen in easy thrusts, each one longer than the last until Dorian is buried inside him, no space left between their bodies.

The noise Dorian makes against the back of his neck sends a shiver through Cullen, and he shifts, trying to encourage Dorian to move. Then he does more than shift as Dorian's hand, slick with lube, closes around his cock and begins to stroke.

"Next time," Dorian says thoughtfully, turning his head so his mouth is right behind Cullen's ear. "That's a difficult decision, I'm finding. I'd thought I might suck your cock until you came in my mouth, because I'd like to watch you fall apart like that. But then I'd also like to watch you suck mine. Did you know that your mouth was the first thing I noticed about you?"

His hips are moving now, long slow thrusts as if he's not in any hurry. Cullen reaches back to grab his thigh, but Dorian ignores the not-so-subtle hint.

"Your mouth." Dorian's mouth is so close Cullen can feel every breath. "I wondered what it would taste like, feel like. Whether you would even be willing to let me find out. Whether you would suck me, if I asked."

It's almost a question, and Cullen breathes out, "Yes."

"Then maybe that's what we'll do next time," Dorian says. His thrusts are still slow, but they're getting faster, his strokes on Cullen's dick matching the pace.

"But there's also this." Dorian twists his wrist, making Cullen buck into his grip. "Because I've thought about that, too, about your cock in my ass. About how it would feel to be spread open for you, your hands on my hips as you fuck me into the mattress, about how it would feel to have you come inside me."

Cullen groans, the image bright and clear in his head. "After," he starts, then embarrassment wins over lust, stopping his tongue until Dorian says, "After?" and the words come out in a rush: "I want to rim you."

The steady thrust of Dorian's hips stutters. "Fuck," he whispers, his forehead pressing hard against the back of Cullen's neck. "Perhaps I should be letting you tell the story."

"No," Cullen says, because really, they'll be here all night if they're waiting on him. "You talk. Please. Tell me."

"I rather like your idea," Dorian says, his hips moving again. Faster now, and harder. "I like the idea of your tongue in my ass, after you've fucked it open."

Somewhere in the back of Cullen's head, he knows he should let go of Dorian's leg, that he's gripping it too hard, but it feels like that grip is the only thing grounding him and he can't make himself open his hand.

At least, not until Dorian releases his cock, slick fingers trailing down Cullen's arm to his wrist. When Cullen does let go, flexing his fingers to ease the ache in them, Dorian guides his hand to his cock, stroking it with him as he kisses the back of Cullen's neck and whispers something Cullen doesn't quite catch.

"What?"

"Nothing," Dorian says, a laugh in his voice. "Just that I can't decide what I want to do most."

"Pick one." Even a sentence that short is difficult, Cullen's hand starting to move faster on his dick.

"I'm only allowed one?" Dorian asks. He wraps his arm around Cullen's chest, squeezing tight, and Cullen feels surrounded by him in the best possible way. "I have so many ideas."

"Tell me," Cullen demands, rocking his hips back to meet Dorian's next thrust.

"We could be here a while, if I tried to tell you all of them." He sounds nonchalant, but his arm around Cullen's chest is shaking very slightly. "I don't think I can last that long, not like this, not when you move like that. Not when you keep making those noises."

Cullen didn't even realize he was making noises, but he doesn't bother trying to stop.

"Would you make those same noises with your mouth on my ass?" Dorian asks. "Groan like that as you lick your come off me? Or do you only sound like this when you're being fucked?" His head turns, his cheek rubbing across Cullen's shoulder like a cat. "I want to find out. I want to fuck you every possible way, I want to know what you sound like with your mouth around my cock, and with my tongue in your ass, and with your ass full of as many of my fingers as you can take."

His body and his voice are everywhere, around Cullen as much as inside him, leaving no room for anything except the two of them and the heat building between them. Dorian's voice is starting to shake, his breath hitching at odd moments, but he keeps talking, whispering endless suggestions in Cullen's ear. Some of them might be physically impossible, but every one goes straight to Cullen's dick.

And then Dorian says "oh" very quietly, the word sliding into a moan Cullen wouldn't be able to hear if Dorian's mouth wasn't so close to his ear, and Dorian's arm curls tighter as he comes, shaking and thrusting in jerky, uncoordinated movements.

Cullen's hand moves faster. He wants to come, but he's not quite there, and as much as it turns him on to have Dorian whimpering in his ear, it isn't enough, not yet.

"Fuck," Dorian mutters, sounding dazed, and Cullen laughs and gasps at the same time.

The laugh stops when Dorian reaches around and squeezes his hand around Cullen's, forcing it to stillness. "Wait," Dorian says, kissing the back of his neck.

Before Cullen can ask what, exactly, he's waiting for, Dorian rolls away, his arm still under Cullen's head as he fumbles with something on the nightstand. The lube, Cullen realizes, just as Dorian rolls back, slick fingers fucking him in place of Dorian's cock. Three at once, driving into him hard and fast, and Cullen groans, his hand moving on his dick again as he tries to rock back against Dorian's hand.

"Next time," Dorian says, leaning close again, "I'll fuck you until you come around my cock, so I can feel you all tight and shaking." His breath is cooling the sweat on Cullen's neck, about the only thing he's doing that isn't making Cullen hotter. "Should I fuck you while you come? Or do you like it better if I just stay so deep inside that you'll feel it for days?"

"In-" Cullen groans, almost choking. "Inside me."

Dorian's breath catches for a second, his fingers thrusting harder into Cullen. "I want to come like that, inside you while you're so tight around me. I want to stroke you the way you're stroking yourself right now, your cock fucking into my fist until you can't even remember how to move and all you can do is lie there while I jerk you off." He kisses the back of Cullen's neck and leans forward to press his nose right behind Cullen's ear. "I want to find out how you like to be fucked, whether I can make you come so hard you scream."

Cullen doesn't scream, but only because his throat closes, every muscle locked as the orgasm rips him apart, Dorian's fingers pushing in deep to make him feel full and thoroughly fucked.

He's still gasping and trembling from the aftershocks when Dorian's fingers withdraw and Dorian's arm wraps loosely around his waist. "That," Dorian murmurs against the back of his neck. "I want to feel that, around my cock."

Even barely post-orgasm, the words send a shiver through Cullen, and he curls back into Dorian's body, seeking any contact he can get. Dorian seems happy to oblige, pressing in closer and kissing the top of his shoulder. They should clean up, maybe eat something, and Cullen needs to know whether all that talk of next times was just talk, or whether he could stay tonight and explore a couple of those possibilities in the morning. Or whether tomorrow, they could go out for coffee and talk about other things, see if they have something to say to each other that isn't obscene.

But right now, he can't find the right words for any of it, so he just tucks himself closer to Dorian's chest and asks, "Next time?"

Dorian's arm tightens around him, his mouth warm against Cullen's neck. "Next time," he agrees, and Cullen can feel him smiling.


End file.
